


faux feelings (and their failings)

by Bugggghead



Series: Bughead Drabbles & One Shots [24]
Category: Archie Comics, Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Co-workers, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff ensues, Mutual Pining, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Smut, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, betty likes jughead too, betty pines, ethel likes jughead, fake dating au, fake dating with very real feelings, jughead likes betty, jughead pines
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 05:26:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15722889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bugggghead/pseuds/Bugggghead
Summary: Prompt: Imagine your OTP as coworkers who decide to be a fake couple to piss an annoying coworker off, but they tricked the rest of the staff as well!? How will they get out of this mess???ORFake dating colleagues with very real feelings**Happiest of Birthdays to @jandjsalmon*** <3





	faux feelings (and their failings)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jandjsalmon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jandjsalmon/gifts).



> Happy, happy Birthday @jandjsalmon. You are one of my dearest fandom friends and I appreciate all that you do for me and everyone else in the bughead fandom. I wish I could do more for you but I hope this little contribution works in lieu of a present! <3

 

*

Drinking with coworkers was ill advised in the intern playbook, but it didn’t seem to matter to any of the others as the rows of shots disappeared and a warm fuzzy feeling took over Betty’s body late one Friday night at a bar near the New York Times office. All of the interns had shown up, Jughead included. They were at opposite ends of the bar when his gaze met hers and she couldn’t help but laugh at the way he mouthed ‘help’ as their coworker, Ethel Muggs, tried to make a move on him. Her hand was planted firmly on his bicep and if Betty didn’t know any better, she could have sworn she saw Ethel squeeze it a little too tightly before leaning down and whispering in Jughead’s ear. His eyes widened with a look of panic and he franticly mouthed ‘HELP’ again with a little more urgency. 

 

Betty tipped her drink back, draining the rest before leaving the glass on the bar and sauntering over to where they stood, sliding into the stool next to him and casually bumping his shoulder with hers. “Hey there, handsome.”

 

Jughead nearly spit out his drink and a confused expression crossed Ethel’s features before she quickly said, “See you around,” and disappeared.

 

“Handsome?” His tone was questioning but his eyes lit up with something she might have called hope if she didn’t know any better. 

 

‘Crush’ seemed like such a silly word for someone in their mid twenties, but it was the only word she could seem to assign to her feelings for him. The first day they met, over six months ago, when all of the interns were introduced, she knew her eyes lingered a little too long on his, and when he shook her hand, she tried her best to ignore the way his fingertips left tingling trails in their wake. Ever since then, they had become closer, eating lunches together, fetching coffee for one another on steady rotation. He’d bring her an iced latte every other day and she’d show up with a large black coffee on the days in between. It had become a bit of a habit, thinking of him in the mornings when she stopped by Starbucks on her way into work. It had also become a bit of a habit, though she’d never admit it to anyone but herself, to think of him late at night, as she laid in her bed picturing that one unruly curl that always seemed to hang right in front of his brilliant blue eyes. 

 

Once, a few months ago, she hadn’t been able to control herself, another late night drinking with the interns, blowing off steam after a particularly grueling week, and her hand had betrayed her mind as she leaned forward and swept the curl from his vision. She vaguely remembers saying, in all her drunken glory, “Your eyes are too pretty to hide behind that curl.” Shortly after she had emptied the contents of her stomach on the sidewalk out front, his hands holding back her hair as she sputtered ‘sorry’ over and over again like it was a mantra. He had never brought it back up and Betty tried her hardest to pretend it had never happened. 

 

“Earth to Betty.”

 

His voice interrupted her thoughts and she felt the tell tale warmth of a blush rising to her cheeks as she mumbled, “Sorry”.

 

“Is everything alright?” The concern was evident in his voice and it made her snap back to the present and shove the embarrassing memory down, locked away, safely forgotten.

 

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. So,” she started, attempting to change the subject. “Ethel’s crush is still going strong I see.”

 

He groaned as he rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately.”

 

Betty couldn’t help but giggle. Ethel was nice enough but she had seen Jughead turn her down politely too many times to count over the last six months. 

 

“She’s nice, Jug,” Betty said sweetly as she bit her lip. Truthfully, she had been glad each time she saw Ethel’s attempts fail, secretly hoping his affections laid elsewhere. 

 

“Nice. Right. She  _ is  _ nice. But I would have thought she got the hint after I told her  _ multiple times _ that I just wasn’t interested.”

 

“Awww,” Betty cooed, placing her hand on his forearm atop the bar and rubbing gently. “You’re going to break the poor girl’s heart, Juggie.”

 

“I wish I didn’t have to.” 

 

His sincerity caught her off guard and she studied his features - the curve of his jaw, that unruly curl hanging over his forehead, the furrow of his brows - before the words spilled, unfiltered from her lips, “maybe you don’t.”

 

He twisted his neck and looked at her questioningly. “I don’t really see another way out of this, Betts. What’s your master plan?”

 

Now that it was out there, she had to follow up, had to say the thing her intoxicated thoughts had brought to mind, but she  _ really _ didn’t want to. “Uh, nothing. Nevermind. It’s stupid anyway.” 

 

She tried to laugh it off but he wasn’t having it. “Oh nooooo. No, you don’t get to do that. Tell me your idea.”

 

“Well,” she paused, sucking in a deep breath before continuing, “what if she thinks you‘re already taken? She might back off easier and no one’s heart has to break.” Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. It was a dangerous game she was playing, letting her alcohol soaked inhibitions wash away the rational thoughts screaming in her brain to ‘STOP’. Ethel’s heart might not break, but hers was a definite possibility. 

 

“You might just be onto something, Coop,” he said with a wink.

 

They hadn’t discussed the details that night, opting instead to stay hidden in their own corner of the bar, actively people watching, engrossed in their own fantasized scenarios. When his hand had landed low on her back as he walked her to her cab, she couldn’t help the pestersome thoughts that filled her mind. Thoughts of those same hands in other places, the heat radiating through her thin top probably paled in comparison to the feeling of flesh on flesh. When she saw Ethel leave right behind them, she did something stupid. Later that night, she’d chalk it up to their plan, but really it was simply an impulse. She had stood on her tip toes and placed a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, leaving him stunned on the sidewalk as she slipped into the cab.

 

*

 

Jughead awoke with a pounding headache around midday on Saturday, cursing Betty for the extra shots that surely lead to his hangover. With that simple train of thought, it all came back as he recalled their conversation the night before. She hadn’t outright said she’d be his fake girlfriend, but the way her lips lingered at the corner of his mouth for a second too long made him wish that she had. 

 

Surely she had meant herself. Who else could she have been talking about? Before he let himself over analyze the gesture, he decided to clarify it. If he let himself venture into dangerous territory, if he let his thoughts run away with him again as they so often did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to take the disappointment if she had meant he should ‘date’ someone else. 

 

He knew she’d be at the office, an upcoming deadline on her first contribution meant Betty would predictably be pouring over her computer on one of her only days off and he threw on some clothes to go find her.

 

When he got off the elevator at the New York Times building, his eyes scanned the rows of cubicles for her signature blonde ponytail. But he came up empty as he walked farther in and ventured down the corridors.

 

He found her in the break room heating up coffee and decided to have a bit of fun. Emboldened by her actions the night before and just a little curious about how she would react, he came up behind her and placed his hands on her hips whispering ‘boo’ into the shell of her ear. She stiffened for a second before relaxing back into him, making no move to deter his hands from their resting place.

 

“Don’t scare me like that, Juggie,” she said playfully, spinning around and lightly slapping him on the chest.

 

In a moment of confidence, he reached up and trapped her hand against his chest, swiping the pad of his thumb across her knuckles and taking in the confused look on her face. “I wanted to talk to you about last night.” 

 

“You mean my ridiculous drunken idea?” she said with a smile, shaking her head to dismiss it.

 

But he wouldn’t have it: he wanted to push her, to take her up on it in the most nonchalant way possible. Because being near Betty Cooper was like a drug. Her smiles were infectious, her voice like silk to his senses, and the way her emerald green eyes bore into him in that very moment spurred him on. “I think it’s a great idea, Betts.”

 

Her hand was still cupped again his chest and they both seemed to realize it at the same time, separating as he leaned back on the opposite counter. 

 

“Really? Do you think anyone would buy it?”

 

“Depends on who they think I’m dating,” he dared to say, hoping she’d be the one - once again - to bring it up.

 

“Oh.” The singular word dropped from her mouth as a light blush rose to her cheeks.

 

He felt bad for making her feel embarrassed. She absolutely shouldn’t have been. He  _ wanted _ it to be her. Hell, he had thought about outright asking her out for months, but something always stopped him, some voice in the back of his head saying he was simply no good for her. She was pastel and soft smiles and he was rough leather and scowls. Despite the few times he thought she might have felt it too, he always attributed the potential for her affections to be simply figments of his imagination.  _ Surely sweet and social Betty Cooper didn’t have eyes for a loner like Jughead Jones. _

 

“I was hoping I could bribe you into playing along,” he said before he could stop himself. He had come to the office specifically to address it, and address it he did. Though he wished he hadn’t the second the word left his mouth.

 

“Me? Really?” She quirked an eyebrow at him

 

“Yes, you,” he said, rolling his eyes. “It was  _ your _ idea after all.”

 

“Fair enough,” she teased. He watched the way her teeth worried her bottom lip and found himself wondering what those lips tasted like. What she might have tasted like. If the scent on her skin tasted as good as it smelled. “So-” she said, breaking him from the dangerous path his thoughts were traveling down- “how do we do this?”

 

In a moment of brevity he leaned forward, moving the singular step it took until he stood before her and reached down to grab her hand. “Just like this.”

 

She easily compiled as he threaded their fingers together and he felt her relax into him as his free arm wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her into a hug. “Let’s see how long it takes for everyone to catch on,” he whispered into her ear.

 

He could have sworn she shivered, but maybe it had been him that shivered when her other arm wrapped around his waist and she buried her face in his chest as she giggled. 

 

“Okay.”

 

*

 

“Do we have any rules?” she asked late on Tuesday once the office had cleared out. It had only been two full days at the office of pretending to be in the sickeningly sweet stages of a budding relationship, but more than a few times he found himself lost in the ploy, genuinely enraptured by her presence. 

 

“Not really. Act lovey dovey, hold hands, keep Ethel at bay. I think that pretty much covers it, don’t you?”

 

“Works for me,” she said with a smile.

 

*

 

It had been over two weeks of holding hands at the office and spending their lunch breaks together. Everyone seemed to catch on pretty quick and Ethel had made a comment days before about Betty being ‘lucky’, which she knew she truly was. Even if it was just for show, the way he looked at her in front of everyone else, and if she was being honest, sometimes when they were alone, made her feel like the luckiest girl alive. 

 

There was another intern outing scheduled for that night at the same bar down the street and Betty found herself nervous as she rifled through her closet, tossing things to the side haphazardly and groaning before finally giving in and asking her roommate/best friend, Veronica Lodge, for fashion advice. It was like opening Pandora’s box as Veronica skimmed through her plethora of outfits and pulled out over twenty different options. Betty passed on most of them, but a white pleated skirt, reminiscent of her cheerleading days paired with a lacy black top caught her attention. 

 

It had earned Veronica’s seal of approval, but as Betty walked into the bar, simultaneously tugging on the hem of her shirt and pulling down the bottom of her skirt, she was reminded that Veronica was definitely shorter than her. She didn’t see Jughead anywhere as she made her way to the bar but was quickly surprised by a pair of hands on her hips and a gentle pressure against her back. Before she turned around, she knew it was him. 

 

“Juggie,” she greeted. They had been more touchy in front of everyone over the last few weeks, but they weren't in the office, and she hadn’t spotted any coworkers yet, so it felt like it was just for her, and that thought made her heart skip a beat as she took in his outfit for the night. He wore dark distressed jeans that genuinely looked worn from age alone and not simply for ‘style’ and a light blue button up with more buttons undone than she was used to. She couldn’t help the way she bit her lip as her eyes traveled over the exposed expanses of his chest, and when his fingers found hers, she leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder. It felt so natural that she didn’t even have time to remind herself it was all an act before she heard them both being summoned by the other interns at a table on the far side of the bar.

 

“They’re requesting your presence,” he murmured into her hair, but she didn’t want to move. The steady thrum of his heart was echoing in her ears and she simply wanted to soak in his presence a little bit longer before pretending to care what Ethel had for lunch or what Nancy’s dog dug up in her yard that morning. Mundane topics simply didn’t interest her when his hands were on her skin and she couldn’t even form a coherent thought when his thumb swiped across her palm.

 

They were all a few shots deep, mixed with water and loaded down with appetizers when Jughead whispered, “Ready to go?”

 

She looked up at him questioningly, but caught the way he rolled his eyes as Nancy droned on about the new dress code at work and quickly agreed. “Yeah. Your place or mine?”

 

“Are you guys getting serious?”

 

The question caught them both off guard, but before she could answer she heard Jughead say, “Yes.”

 

She averted her gaze from their coworkers and locked eyes with him before nodding and mumbling, “Yeah,” too.

 

“Well don’t have sex in the breakroom. Interns were fired for it last year,” Ethel said with an edge to her voice.

 

“Thanks for the advice,” he threw out, getting up from the table and tugging Betty along with him. 

 

They all said their goodbyes and Betty and Jughead made their way to the curb, trying and failing to hail a cab for a solid ten minutes before simply giving up. “I don’t live far from here,” she offered. “I could just walk.”

 

“And what kind of boyfriend would I be if I just let you walk yourself home?” His tone was mocking but his eyes looked sincere and Betty couldn’t help but laugh.

 

“A fake one,” she said simply before catching the way his playful demeanor dimmed just a bit. “But if you insist,” she followed up, threading her arm through his and steering them down the street.

 

They talked as they walked. Her apartment was only a few blocks away so when they reached her steps, she wasn’t quite ready to say goodbye. “Do you want to come up?” she heard herself asking without even realizing she was doing it. “I mean- Do you, uh-”

 

“Sure,” he interrupted her fumbling and she felt a wave of relief wash over her. 

 

*

 

Jughead didn’t know what he had ever done right in his life to deserve a personal invitation into Betty Cooper’s apartment at an hour late enough to mean only one thing. But he was sure that wasn’t her intention when she first asked him up, less sure of that fact as they climbed the stairs with their hands still intertwined, and even less sure when she shut the door and promptly wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face in the crook of his neck and sighing deeply against his skin. 

 

He knew they had drank a bit, just enough to loosen up but not nearly enough to even fail a sobriety test. So when he felt her hands fist his shirt, he couldn’t help himself any longer. 

 

“Betty,” he said slowly, but he didn’t get a chance to finish before she leaned back.

 

“What?” she asked with wide eyes. She looked stunning, the dark black lace contrasting her creamy skin, the muted tones setting off the deep green of her eyes, and if he was really looking - which he was - he could have sworn they were just a shade darker than he had ever seen before. “What?” she asked again, concern beginning to weave its way into her features and he wanted to stop it. To stop her from over thinking it. To make sure he hadn’t been pushing her away. 

 

So he did the only thing he could think of, leaning down slightly, moving in the majority of the way, his lips hovering over hers as he waited for her to respond. And she did - tenfold - brushing her lips against his for only a second before reaching up and gripping his neck, pulling him down, pulling him to her, as if she was willing him them to become one being, one presence, one singular entity. And as she deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue along his bottom lip, he felt every ounce of self control slip away. 

 

He had wondered many times what kissing Betty Cooper would feel like, but he had never imagined it to be so natural. His lips moved in tandem with hers, both breaking for breaths at the same time before connecting again. It was electric, exciting, magnetic as their mouths found each other’s over and over again. His hands roamed her body, trailing from her back, around her hips, up to her waist before he felt her moving backward. His feet carried him with her, never breaking contact as they bumped along the walls in the hallway. He knew they should have laughed, or stopped, or talked about it, but he didn't have it in him to stop. It was as if she ignited sometime in him that he had tried fruitlessly to deny for the last few weeks. Each lingering glance and squeeze of their hands had told him it felt real, but his more rational mind constantly categorized it as an act, while his heart said he wanted it no matter the consequences. Even if it was all an act, it was one he wanted to throw himself into.

 

So as they approached her bed, and his fingertips skimmed under her blouse, the echo of her breathy ‘yes’ kept him going. With deft hands he undressed her, carefully, slowly, placing kisses along the newly exposed flesh that did, in fact, taste sweeter than he had imagined. When they were both stripped, finally done undressing each other down to their underwear, he settled over her and found her lips again. If she was nervous, he couldn’t tell by the way her legs wrapped around his hips and pulled him down. He was impossibly hard against her skimpy lace and the feeling of her wetness soaking through the offending fabric had him groaning as she arched into him, pressing her hips against his and whispering, ‘please.’

 

His fingers toyed along the edge of her lace panties, one of only two pieces of wispy fabric left on her taut body. “Tell me what you want,” he whispered in her ear, trapping her lobe between his teeth and nibbling gently.

 

“Y-y-you,” she panted.

 

“Be more specific.”

 

“All of you,” she whispered.

 

He pulled back for a brief second, stilling his motions to look in her eyes. He wanted to ask if she was sure, but with a slight nod of her head he knew he didn’t need to. She wanted it, wanted him, just as much as he did. He could feel her body’s evidence seeping through his boxers, attesting to the fact. Emboldened, he slipped a finger deep in her folds and caressed her pulse point with his tongue. As he pumped in and out of her, nipping and sucking at the milky white skin on her neck, he heard her pant with every motion. 

 

“Jug, Jug, Juggie,” she whined, clenching her thighs around his finger, nearing her edge.

 

“What is it baby?” His thumb found purchase against her clit and with a few quick swirls, pressing down on the pulsing nub, he felt her body respond.

 

“I- I- I-” But she never finished her thought as he felt her tighten around his finger again. This time fully, this time releasing as she crested over the edge. 

 

“More,” she moaned, walls still fluttering around his fingers and his head was swimming in response. The ache he felt was unmatched, an urge erupting from deep within him. He needed to feel her, to taste her, to  _ have  _ her. And she was all too willing to let him.

 

Her hands reached down, hooking into the edge of his boxers and pushing them down. His own gripped the edge of her panties and stripped her bare within minutes. 

 

She was panting when he made his way back up to her lips, leaving trails of kisses in his wake. When their eyes finally met again, his length pressed against her slick folds, her chest heaving, pressing against his, he breathed, “You’re so beautiful, baby.” He didn’t miss the way her eyelids fluttered as he spoke.

 

“Jug.” The word slipped from her lips as her hips ground against him. “More.”

 

He moved to reach for his pants, long forgotten off the edge of the bed, in search of his wallet and the small foil square that had resided there for at least a few months, if not longer; but she stopped him, shaking her head as her implication hung heavy in the air between their breaths. “Um,” she whispered, “I’m on the pill. And clean. I’m clean, too. I mean I-”

 

He silenced her with a kiss, his tongue dipping in and out of her mouth, exploring every uncharted inch as he settled over her and whispered, “me too,” in between breaths. He didn’t want her to be nervous, he was nervous enough for them both, so without a second thought, he slid in, silencing her save for a short gasp and the light moan that followed as he body adjusted.

 

Starting  slowly, he sank in as far as he could before pulling back. It was unhurried, torturous, as though they had all the time in the world. He read her cues with ease, as if they were dancing, the steps ingrained in his very being as they found an easy rhythm together, moving like their bodies were made to do this, designed to be slotted together, moving against one another to the beat of their breaths. 

 

With every thrust, she arched in response, their bodies moving in tandem, a cadence only they could hear; a push earned a pull, a moan matched a gasp, their chests heaving and skin gliding, flesh on flesh until it was nearly too much. He knew he wouldn’t last long, not when he was buried in her. Not when she felt so god damned amazing. He knew he was near the edge.

 

*

 

Betty wasn’t even sure how she had anything left to give as he once again brought her to the edge of climax. She knew he wasn’t far either as his thrusts became more erratic, the answering push of his hips against her thighs echoing around the room, minging with their moans. All it took was a slight lift of her hips and his final thrust caused her to clench. It was too much, all at once: the feeling of him buried deep within her, the answering flutter of her walls as they surrounded him, pulling him in, pushing him further; and when the stars burst behind her eyelids, she felt her toes curl and a deep groan rumble straight through his chest and into hers. Their bodies were slick, still intimately connected when he leaned down to kiss her again. 

 

It took a long time for their breaths to even out, for them both to come down and the reality of the situation to settle around them. If she was even remotely tipsy before, she was stone cold sober now. Her fake boyfriend had given her a very real orgasm - or two - and she was at a loss for how to react. Despite their current state of literal undress, she had never felt further away from him. She didn’t know what to say, what to feel, what to do, so she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

 

“That didn’t feel fake,” she joked. Her statement was meant to be lighthearted, but she knew it held more weight than she cared to admit.

 

But he surprised her, rolling over and sliding his fingertips along her jaw, sinking them into her hair and brushing his lips against hers. The kiss wasn’t hot, it wasn’t firey or filled with passion, it was simple, sweet, and absolutely perfect. It left her reeling, wanting more and stunned silent all at the same time as he pulled back and whispered, “it wasn’t. At least not for me.”

 

And before he could say another word, she said, “me either,” and met him in the middle, their mouths connecting in a searing kiss, one that she felt from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, one that radiated through her veins, sent shivers up her spine and left her head spinning. 

 

No, it certainly wasn’t fake.

 

*

**Author's Note:**

> First, thank you to everyone who helped me with this little one shot. @peyton_0727 thanks for being a wonderful beta. @theatreofexpression, thank you for taking the time to look over this for me and giving me such amazing feedback. @thenurseholliday, @a92vm, @noorakardemmomesaetre - thank you guys for reading this over and being amazing with your endless support. Lastly, thanks @theheavycrown & @paperlesscrown for helping me refine some sections I was unsure about & @tory-b thank you for being the title genius that you are! Every single one of you are amazing and I can't even tell you how much your support means to me. <3
> 
> Come find me on Tumblr @bugggghead!
> 
> Comments ALWAYS appreciated <3 - K


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